


if i was a flower growing wild and free (all i'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee)

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Is A (Closeted) Romantic, Arthur Speaks Before He Thinks, Botany, Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I hope, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin Panics, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Self-Indulgent, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: Arthur discovers Merlin's magic in a moment of extreme stress and, being very Arthur, says some things he regrets, causing Merlin to transform into a daisy. At least, he's pretty sure it's Merlin. He hopes. Will Arthur confessing a secret of his own be enough to convince Merlin to change back? Or has he simply been talking to a random wildflower all week?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 84
Kudos: 664





	if i was a flower growing wild and free (all i'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee)

**Author's Note:**

> Gentle reader, I warn you that this is self-indulgent fluff. The title comes from "All I Want is You" by Barry Louis Polisar.
> 
> Obligatory statements include:  
> A. Don't repost my work to other sites, please and thank you.  
> B. I don't own these characters or the franchise. Written for the love of Camelot and its amazing fandom, never for the cash money.

A problem with extreme stress is its tendency to cause one to act against one’s better judgment.

Case in point - while out on a routine patrol, a king might find himself under attack from a would-be assassin. Even as a skilled warrior, one couldn’t fault the king for feeling a degree of concern, what with someone trying to kill him. That anxiety was nothing compared to when the fiend turned his blade on the man who was the king’s most loyal servant, best friend, and unbeknownst to anyone but the king, love of his life.

Though the king charged forward with all the speed his legs could manage, it didn’t seem to matter. The assassin was about to lunge, and Arthur wasn’t going to make it in time to save Merlin. All he could do was hope that the wound wouldn’t be fatal.

There was no way, Arthur decided as he ran, that the situation could be more nerve-wracking.

Then he caught sight of Merlin’s eyes. The familiar blue was missing, replaced with glowing gold as Merlin raised his hands to blast the assassin against a tree, the cracking sound making it clear the man wouldn’t be rising soon. Or possibly at all.

There were many things that one could say in this situation. “I’m glad you’re ok,” was likely the best place to start. “You cheated when I tried to take your head off with a mace,” would answer a question that had plagued Arthur for years. “Since we’re sharing secrets, I’ve been in love with you for a decade,” could provide a nice conclusion.

Under no circumstances should he yell out something like “you’re a godsdamn sorcerer.” For starters, it was nothing more than stating the obvious and wouldn’t really contribute anything to the conversation. Besides, screaming it out in a stress-induced panic would likely cause Merlin his own share of stress, especially if Arthur did so while still running forward with his sword drawn.

“You’re a godsdamn sorcerer,” Arthur bellowed, cringing but somehow unable to stop it. He’d always been a fool with his words when under a great deal of pressure.

The way Merlin was looking at him, terror and desperation on his face, left Arthur far more afraid than when he’d been sparring with the assassin. He tried to will his legs to run faster. All he wanted was to take Merlin in his arms, to hold him close and tell him that he didn’t care, that all that mattered was that he was safe, that Arthur loved him. Only a few more steps and he’d be there.

Merlin was saying something that Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Was it a spell? It had to be, because Merlin’s eyes went golden again right before he vanished.

Arthur collapsed to his knees, his chest seizing. Merlin was gone, there was no way to track him, and he thought Arthur wanted to kill him. He’d likely never see Merlin again. What was the point in fighting the tears that were starting to fall?

He indulged himself for a moment in a shameless display of grief, mourning the loss of the most important person in his life. It was only when he was out of tears that he noticed the single daisy growing in the middle of the road where he knelt. It couldn’t have been there before. Even if it hadn’t been trampled by the carts and horses that frequented the road, there was no way it would have survived Merlin’s standoff with the assassin. The boot prints in the dirt made that much clear. Besides, it was too late in autumn for daisies.

Was it possible that…? It had to be. Arthur wouldn’t accept any other explanation.

“Leon,” Arthur screamed to his first knight who’d gone after the assassin’s accomplice, “get over here! And bring anything you have that can be used as a shovel.”

If anyone in Camelot thought it was odd that the king rode into the citadel wearing a single boot, they said nothing. Not one word was mentioned about how he was clutching its mate, full of dirt and sprouting a daisy, tightly in his hand.

Instead, the whispers and pointed stares were focused on Merlin’s empty saddle, his horse led by Leon.

“Where’s Merlin?” Gwaine asked when they dismounted in the courtyard.

“He’s…” Arthur hesitated. “Leon will explain. I have to find a flowerpot.”

❀❀❀❀❀❀

It was well after midnight when Arthur finally made it to bed.

Tracking down a suitable pot had eaten up a fair chunk of time.

“These won’t do. I need one with drainage,” he’d scolded when the knights had arrived in his chambers with an assortment of containers. “Otherwise the roots will rot.”

“How do you know so much about growing flowers?” Elyan asked.

“You have to know these things when you’re a king,” Arthur deflected.

He could see no crucial reason to reveal his secret love of flowers or that he’d been researching how to plan out a castle garden. If he wanted to dedicate said planned garden to Merlin, as a token of respect and gratitude (and also his undying love), well, that was his own business.

A thorough search of the castle eventually yielded the correct kind of planter and Arthur dismissed his knights before he began the delicate process of transferring the daisy from his boot to the pot. There was some grumbling, but Arthur refused to let them linger. After all, if the flower really was Merlin, he might not want a crowd of gawkers watching him being replanted. Arthur certainly wouldn’t if he was a daisy. Apart from respecting Merlin’s privacy, Arthur didn’t want to deal with the onslaught of questions he knew Gwaine had been biting back.

“It’s alright,” Lancelot had said, taking Gwaine by the arm. “I’ll explain. Everything.”

There was something in Lancelot’s tone that suggested he had far more knowledge about Merlin _and_ Arthur’s secrets than Arthur had suspected, but it was better to let them leave than to press the man on what he knew and how long he’d known it.

Normally replanting one small flower wouldn’t have taken so long, but Arthur moved with considerable care, determined not to cause any harm to it. If he rushed things, a leaf might get torn or a root broken. There was no telling what effect that would have on Merlin when he changed back into his regular form. If, of course, the daisy really was Merlin.

Arthur shoved that thought out of his mind. It _was_ Merlin. It had to be. He refused to believe otherwise.

He hadn’t had time to find a suitable location for the daisy when there was an expected knock at the door, one that couldn’t be ignored.

“Come in, Gaius,” Arthur said, ushering the physician to the best chair at the king’s table. “There are things I need to tell you.”

Though Gaius assured him that Leon had relayed the salient points of what had happened, Arthur refused to be deterred. He explained his version of events in painstaking detail while Gaius examined the daisy.

“I am truly sorry for what happened to him. I was a complete boor, an ass, a clotpole. I respect his need to be alone for now and will do everything in my power to keep him comfortable until he’s ready to transform back.”

Gaius stared at the flower, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “You should know that he has been protecting you since you first met.”

“Was he ever in danger?”

“Often.”

“Was he ever harmed?”

The heavy silence was all the answer Arthur needed. He reached for the daisy, gently tracing a finger along its leaves. From the corner of his eye, he caught Gaius’s tiny smile.

“You’re certain this is him?” Gaius finally asked.

“It’s what was left after he vanished.”

“And it wasn’t in the road before?”

“I…”

“Did you actually see him transform into a daisy?”

“Well, not quite. Everything happened so fast and he just disappeared, but...”

Gaius sighed. “I think we should send a message to Ealdor.”

“To let Hunith know her son is a Bellis perennis?”

“I didn’t realize you studied botany, sire.”

“It’s important for kings to have a well-rounded education.”

Gaius’s expression suggested he knew Arthur was hiding something, but he didn’t press the matter.

“I was thinking more to see if Merlin was staying with her. He’s been practicing teleportation spells.”

The mention of magic distracted Arthur from the rebuttal he was forming to Gaius’s theory on Merlin’s whereabouts.

“Spells. Shit. There’s something I need to do.”

There was no time for a bath, so a vigorous face scrubbing had to suffice, followed by a mad scramble to get into his most formal attire. Gwen had to be summoned to deal with the cloak and the combing of the royal hair, as those were beyond Gaius’s abilities.

“I should have changed the law when Morgana left,” Arthur said as she worked.

“In your defense, she had just blasted your father before being carried away in the talons of a giant dragon.”

“Yes, but she had her reasons. And now with Merlin…”

Gwen must have heard the news of what had happened because she pulled him into a hug.

“You two will sort things eventually,” she said.

Just after sunset, Arthur stood on the balcony overlooking a hastily assembled crowd in the courtyard to proclaim the recension of Camelot’s ban on nonharmful magic. A few onlookers wondered why the king was carrying a potted plant, but most were more preoccupied with the monumental news he was announcing.

“Finally,” Arthur said, hours later and back in his chambers, undressing and donning his nightclothes, “I can get some sleep.”

He’d just settled under the covers when he thought of something. It was far too late to be moving furniture, but it couldn’t be helped. The narrow windowsill made him anxious so the desk had to be dragged to meet the wall.

“There,” he said, placing the flowerpot close to the window. “I can sleep as late as I want and Merlin will still get sunlight.”

He gave the daisy a light pat, then, feeling embarrassed, hurried to his bed where he could hide under the covers.

❀❀❀❀❀❀

Arthur didn’t even make it a full day before he started talking to the plant.

It began innocently enough the following morning when he sequestered himself in his chambers to get caught up on accumulating paperwork. By no means was he trying to dodge questions about decrees and daisies. He simply needed to deal with the correspondence and reports that he’d put off to go on patrol.

“Sorry,” Arthur said when he accidentally tipped over the pot while reaching for a parchment on his desk.

The word slipped out as naturally as if he’d bumped Merlin, Arthur not really noticing he’d said it, too concerned with assessing any damage he’d caused. Fortunately, only a tiny bit of dirt had spilled out and no harm had been done, so Arthur went on reviewing the latest grain reports.

“These numbers can’t be right,” Arthur said as he read. “Merlin, can you check…”

Arthur caught himself midsentence. He’d been so preoccupied with getting Merlin settled and repealing the ban, that there’d been no time the previous day to reflect on how lonely life was without Merlin’s constant presence. Now, with the terribly dull grain report not engrossing enough to distract him, it hit hard.

“I bet you did it just to skive off work,” he grumbled at the daisy. “Stupid lazy sorcerer.”

His words were more anguished than irritated, but he ruffled the daisy’s leaves, lest Merlin think he really was angry with him.

“Red or white?” he asked, holding up the two tunics for the daisy’s inspection. He wasn’t even sure why he was bothering to get dressed, as he had no plans to leave his chambers. As expected, the daisy said nothing in reply.

Yes, Arthur was perfectly capable of picking out his own clothes, but it was so much nicer when Merlin was there to explain how flattering the low cut of the red tunic was or of how the white one accentuated Arthur’s eyes.

In the end he went with blue. Merlin had suggested it the previous day, but Arthur had ignored his advice, not seeing a reason to wear something so nice and new when it would be concealed by his armor.

“Maybe if I’d listened to you yesterday and worn this one, then you would have realized how much I trust you and you wouldn’t have…” Arthur cut himself off midsentence before he got too melancholy.

“I can’t believe the kitchen sent dumplings,” Arthur complained to the flower when his lunch arrived. “They haven’t sent dumplings since you first started fetching my meals. It’s like eating frogspawn.”

“Feeling well, sire?” George asked when he came to take the tray. “You haven’t finished your dumplings and Audrey says they’re your favorite.”

“Does she?”

“Oh yes. She says you never fail to eat them all. It’s why she makes them at least twice a week now.”

“Just… too caught up with work to be all that hungry,” Arthur lied, wondering if Merlin magicked away the offensive dumplings to protect him.

“Don’t worry about Merlin, sire,” George said as he left with the tray. “He won’t abandon you, not with what you mean to him. And might I say, it’s nice to see you wearing the tunic he bought you.”

So that was why Merlin had been so insistent he wear it. What was the fool doing wasting his money like that when Arthur had more than enough to buy his own clothes?

“Anyway, it’s not like you ever wear the one I bought you,” Arthur chastised the daisy. “‘I’m saving it for a special occasion’ you always say. Idiot. Seeing you in purple would make any day special.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur thought he saw the daisy’s leaves rustle. But then that couldn’t be right. Though the curtains were open, he’d left the windows closed to protect the flower from the cool autumn breeze.

“It occurs to me that this is the quietest day I’ve had in years,” Arthur said as he packed away the parchments after dinner. “The only time my chambers are normally this silent are when you’ve left for the night. I should make you stay later. That way I can listen to your prattle _and_ keep you from staying out too late at the tavern. I bet the Rising Sun is missing you tonight. Should I take you there? Probably not. I imagine it’s too raucous for a delicate flower. Not that I would know, seeing as to how you never invite me.”

As Arthur began to undress, a troubling thought occurred to him. What if the reason Merlin hadn’t asked him along for evenings at the tavern was because Merlin was actually out doing secret sorcerer things? And what if those things involved helping Arthur and protecting Camelot? Merlin often went on his benders at times when the kingdom was facing a grave threat.

If he was out there alone, fighting gods only knew what, then showing up for work the next morning to wash Arthur’s socks while being berated for arriving late…

“I think I might get to bed early,” Arthur told the plant, suddenly feeling mixed waves of guilt and sadness. “Rest well, Merlin.”

❀❀❀❀❀❀

If a king does his job properly, then a busy schedule will be a normal occurrence and something he grows accustomed to. The week that followed proved ridiculously busy, even by Arthur’s standards.

The lifting of the magic ban led to increased council meetings to hammer out more specific legislation. Those meetings were in addition to the previously scheduled ones, and there was still training with the knights which couldn’t be abandoned, not with random assassins on the prowl. When he was finally able to retreat to his chambers, he found his evenings full of paperwork and correspondence, which rapidly piled up without Merlin there to help.

Normally when Arthur put in such full days, he overheard words of praise from his knights and counsellors, remarking on his dedication to his people. This time, though, instead of whispers of admiration, Arthur caught muttered exchanges questioning his mental state.

“And he refuses to let it out of his sight,” one advisor whispered before a council meeting began.

“How was I supposed to properly duel him? He insisted on holding it with his free hand and if my sword had hit the pot…” a junior knight complained to another.

“They say he talks to it,” a maid whispered to a butler after Arthur walked past.

So what if all those things were true? Arthur was the king; as such he could do as he pleased. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d been remiss in his duties. The roads were in good condition, no armies had invaded in years, and public holidays were plentiful. If he wanted to carry a potted daisy with him as he went through his day, that was no one’s business but his own.

True, the last three council meetings had been held outdoors under direct sunlight, but honestly, it was nice to get some fresh air. Arthur had his suspicions that some counsellors hadn’t left the castle interior in decades from the way that they complained.

At least his closest friends hadn’t taken part in idle gossip, though clear divisions emerged regarding the true nature of the daisy.

Gaius refused to come down one way or the other until he heard back from Hunith.

Leon and Elyan, while not convinced, remained supportive, indulging him without question. Gwen and Percival believed that Arthur believed it was Merlin. Though less skeptical than the others, it was obvious they had their doubts. Lancelot, who had apparently known about Merlin’s magic for years, leaned more toward accepting Arthur’s claims. And then there was Gwaine.

“I’ve been reading up on fertilizers and I think he needs more nutrients.”

“Gwaine, he’s only been in the pot for three days.”

“Yes, and if all you had to eat for three days was plain bread, you’d be feeling pretty miserable. Get him some manure. Also, stop overwatering him. His leaves are turning yellow.”

“They’re not.” Arthur might have been watering Merlin each night, but it hadn’t been excessive.

The argument went on, getting louder, until Gaius intervened, settling the dispute in Arthur’s favor.

Arthur didn’t care what passersby thought. Arguing with Gwaine or taking the daisy to all of his official functions didn’t mean he’d gone mad. He simply couldn’t bear the thought of facing his days without Merlin at his side.

Never mind that Merlin was too busy with photosynthesis to engage in banter and secret shared looks. It was fine. He still needed time. Arthur could wait patiently. He was pretty sure. Maybe.

❀❀❀❀❀❀

“What a knob.”

Arthur intended his whisper for Merlin alone, but his voice must have carried because all eyes in the throne room were fixed on the king. Gwen gave him a look that suggested he was in deep trouble, but Arthur ignored her. Lord Derwen, the visiting trade envoy from Mercia, deserved it. He was the most arrogant ass Arthur had ever met, which was saying something, as Arthur had known himself before Merlin wandered into his life.

He gave a placid smile and waved for the man to continue speaking about the benefits of Mercian wool.

“I never thought he’d shut up,” Arthur muttered to Merlin during a recess. “I swear he only has that job because of who his father is.”

In his mind, Arthur could hear Merlin’s retort about Arthur having no room to talk when it came to nepotism. “Shut up, Merlin. I’m different and you know it.”

“Could I speak with you in the antechamber, my lord?” Gaius’s smile was entirely too forced to be genuine. Though he phrased it in the form of a question, Arthur knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Fine. Let me grab…”

“Gwen can look after the plant, my lord. It will only take a second.”

Against his better judgment, Arthur allowed the old man to lead him into the small room.

“I hate to pry, sire, but can you hear the plant, I mean Merlin, talking to you?” Gaius used the gentle tone he reserved for patients who were often prescribed an extended period of rest as their treatment.

“Unfortunately, no,” Arthur said, watching Gaius’s face instantly relax. “Have you heard from Hunith?”

The tension returned to Gaius’s features. “A message arrived while we were listening to Lord Derwen. He never made it to Ealdor. Arthur, it’s been a week. Perhaps we should send search parties…”

“To the throne room, as that’s where he is,” Arthur began, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he knew Gaius was worried. “I realize you want scientific proof. Why not have a sorcerer come and examine him to…”

Rising voices from the throne room drew Arthur’s attention away from Gaius.

“But it makes perfect sense. I’m rich, you’re beautiful, and our marriage will ensure a permanent trade arrangement between Mercia and Camelot.”

“And _I_ said I wasn’t interested.”

“My dear Guinevere, I simply will not take no for an answer. Here. As an initial token of my affection, I’ll pick you this flower and then later…”

The crowd in the throne room never learned Lord Derwen’s future plans as Arthur chose that moment to rush from the antechamber, sword drawn.

“Those are two of the most important people in the world to me,” he said, voice ice cold. “Harm or harass either of them again and it will be the last thing you do.”

He expected to be cut off by Leon, who had been known to save Arthur from his mouth when Merlin was absent. Today, however, there was no reproachful look from his first knight, just a pointed glare that suggested Leon was in full agreement regarding Lord Derwen.

“Gwaine, take Percival and escort Derwen to the castle gate. Leon, tend to Guinevere. I’ll get Merlin to safety.”

  
❀❀❀❀❀❀

The danger had long-since passed and was likely halfway back to Mercia thanks to the rough sendoff from Gwaine and Percival, but Arthur spent the rest of the day holed up in his chambers. The incident had left him too shaken to focus on anything other than how close he’d come to losing Merlin.

“What if he’d broken your stem, Merlin? What would I have done then? I don’t have your magic to repair the damage. If I had to watch you wilt and wither…”

Arthur paced the room, occasionally scowling at the plant where it sat on his desk. It was frustrating how the daisy looked cheerful as ever, as if the ordeal hadn’t affected Merlin in the slightest. Did he even know what had almost happened?

“This whole thing has gone on long enough,” Arthur said, picking up the daisy so he could hold it at eye level. “I respect that your secret got revealed in a way that was less than ideal and I understand that you needed time, but it’s been a week. This is ridiculous. I order you to…”

He caught himself before uttering the words that might leave Merlin convinced to stay a flower forever. There had been so much left unsaid between them and Merlin hadn’t been the only one hiding things. Now wasn’t the time for commands, but maybe it was the time for confessions.

Arthur took a seat at the desk, gently setting down the pot so he could fumble in the drawer for a parchment he’d been hiding.

“There’s something I need to show you, Merlin,” Arthur said as he unrolled it. “It’s meant to be a surprise for you. I wanted to wait until it was further along and the time was right but… anyway, considering all that’s happened, maybe now is the perfect time.”

He tried to position Merlin’s pot so that the entire parchment was visible.

“Can you even see this? Never mind. I’ll tell you about it. These are the plans I’ve drawn up for Camelot’s first ever public flower garden. I thought we could put it here, in that spot right outside of the Lower Town where you like to go walking. This section will be full of roses. I thought pansies would be nice over here, the bellflowers could go there, and this spot was meant to be a patch of daisies.”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

“I suppose,” he began, “you’re wondering why I was planning a garden. It was meant to be a surprise for you, to be built in the winter, so that in spring, when all the flowers were finally blooming, I could take you there and tell you…”

Arthur paused, gently closing his hands around the flowerpot as he lowered his chin to the table. Ideally, he’d be looking in Merlin’s eyes at this point, but this would have to do.

“Tell you,” Arthur continued, “how important you are to me. How my life was dull and grey until you wandered into it. How you’re sometimes all that gets me through my most difficult days. I now know the truth of what you’ve done for me, but Merlin, just knowing you has been magical. It’s fitting you became a daisy, because you’ve always been the bright bloom in my life. I’m starting to sound like a lovestruck girl. But I suppose that’s because I am one. Not a girl, I mean, but lovestruck. Oh, hell, Merlin. I love you.”

A thought occurred to Arthur, an important thought. Not necessarily one he liked. In fact, he rather hated it. But he knew that no matter how much he might try to shove it away and forget it, he wouldn’t be able to. Because, despite the unpleasantness it might lead to, he needed to say it.

“I know I haven’t treated you right. I’ve been demanding, and arrogant, and generally a prat. You didn’t feel like you could trust me with your deepest secret and… anyway, regardless of what happens, I’m still building the garden for you. Transform back and tell me off, but you’ll still have roses all summer. Or… if you like being a daisy… we can find a nice spot for you there. You can stretch your roots and spend all day under the sun. No matter what you decide, I want it to be your choice. Because you deserve to be happy, Merlin.”

Arthur waited, watching the daisy, but nothing happened. Was Merlin still mad at him? Had he decided to take Arthur up on his offer of moving into the garden? Was this some random wildflower and not Merlin at all?

Best not to think such thoughts, Arthur decided. He’d deal with it in the morning. As he’d done each night that week, he gently ruffled Merlin’s leaves and, before he could catch himself, gave the flower a gentle kiss.

“Rest well, Merlin,” Arthur said as he dragged his broken heart under the covers.

❀❀❀❀❀❀

“Did you mean it?”

Arthur had barely drifted off when a familiar voice pulled him from his sleep.

“Merlin! You’re back.” Never in his entire life had Arthur Pendragon gotten out of bed so quickly.

“I never left.”

“I know but…” Arthur paused as he stood in front of Merlin, looking him over as best he could in the moonlight, “it wasn’t the same.”

The pale light spilling in through the window illuminated Merlin’s face. Gods, Arthur had missed his eyes. And his cheekbones. Also his lips. Basically, all of him.

“Did you mean it?” Merlin asked again, cutting into Arthur’s silent recitation of all the parts of Merlin he wanted to kiss. “What you said earlier… about the garden and how you loved me?”

“I…” Arthur hesitated, catching himself before he fell back on the familiar habit of guarding his most vulnerable feelings. “Yes. I did. And the rest of it. You shouldn’t have to spend your days hiding or holding back. You deserve to be happy, whatever that entails.”

There. Merlin could make of it what he wanted, but at least Arthur had been honest.

“And if it entails kissing you?”

The moonlight was bright enough to catch the pink tinge creeping across Merlin’s face that Arthur was pretty sure mirrored his own.

“Then I think making _you_ happy would make _me_ happy,” he somehow managed to say.

Arthur caught a flash of the familiar smile he’d desperately missed for the past week before Merlin crashed into him, lips capturing his own in a kiss that made up in enthusiasm what it lacked in grace. Yes, they might have bumped foreheads. Noses got in the way. Teeth were tricky. But who cared? As far as Arthur was concerned, this kiss was perfect. Because it was Merlin kissing him, clinging to him, arms wrapped around him so tightly that Arthur could barely breathe. Then breathing became an afterthought, as Merlin did something with his tongue that made Arthur’s knees buckle.

“Maybe we should sit,” Merlin suggested, breaking off the kiss to keep Arthur steady.

He led Merlin to the bed, Arthur not realizing the implications of what he’d done until they were reclining side by side, propped up on pillows, resting against the headboard.

“I wasn’t trying to take you to bed,” Arthur began. “I mean, I was. But only so we could sit. I don’t want to… debauch you. Not right now, anyway. Eventually, if you want to, maybe we can… but only if you really want to and if you don’t or never do, then…”

“Arthur, I’ve been waiting upwards of a decade for you to… debauch, who even says that, me. And after I’m properly rested…”

“Rested?” Arthur asked, needing a moment to process Merlin’s words. “You’ve been resting for a week.”

“How do you figure?"

"You haven’t had to _do_ anything.”

“That’s not true. I had to make my own food. Photosynthesis is harder than it looks. And then it took a lot of magic to change back. I didn’t realize how challenging it would be to cast as a daisy.”

“Speaking of which, why did you wait so long? I lifted the ban on the first night.”

“Initially, because I thought you’d be mad,” Merlin said, picking at the blanket underneath him. “Not just about the magic, but because I’d lied. And if not mad, then hurt. I remember how upset you were with Morgana.”

“Yes, well, she wasn’t you. Though after taking time to think about it, I can’t fault her. I wish the dragon hadn’t…”

“It’s not what you think. She’s alive. Kilgharrah took her to a place where she can safely work through some things. He says she’s still not ready to come out of seclusion but…”

“He’s called Kilgharrah? Let me guess, your magic lets you talk to dragons.”

“You could say that. And command them.”

Merlin sounded almost embarrassed and Arthur had to laugh. “You can explain that later. You haven’t finished telling me why you chose to remain a flower for a week. Surely you had to realize that I wasn’t angry with you.”

“I figured that out on the second day, but…”

“What?”

“You kept doting on me. And I liked it,” Merlin said, his voice so quiet Arthur had to strain to make out the words.

“Idiot,” Arthur said, pulling him into a hug. “You seriously stayed a daisy so I would what? Water you each night?”

“It was nice. Gwaine was right, by the way. You were overdoing the water.”

“And we will never tell him that, lest we unleash a level of smugness that will threaten the safety of the realm.”

“More like a level of smugness that will irritate the king.”

“Is the king’s happiness not crucial for the safety of the realm?”

“You’re such a prat.”

“Yes, but I’m _your_ prat.” Merlin let out a little sigh and shifted closer to Arthur. “Now finish explaining what happened.”

“Well, besides the watering, you were always saying nice things to me or ruffling my leaves. At first I thought it was because I was a daisy – I know how much you love flowers. Then tonight you told me how you felt and kissed me. Arthur, all I wanted was to change back right then and there, but I couldn’t remember how to do it. It took all my concentration to finally figure it out. Be easy. You’re hugging me a little too tight.”

Arthur didn’t let Merlin go, but he relaxed his hold slightly. “You are _never_ doing that again, Merlin. Are we clear?”

“Arthur, I’m…”

“A fool who almost got stuck as a daisy. It’s not negotiable. Now come on.”

“Where are we going?” Merlin asked as Arthur pulled him from the bed and toward the door.

“To see Gaius to let him know you’re safe. Then we’re coming back to this bed, where we will sleep until at least midday.”

“And after that?”

“A hearty meal. Followed by debauching,” Arthur added, suddenly feeling brave.

“Good,” Merlin said, giving him a shy smile and a quick kiss. “Although there’s just one thing before we go.”

“What are you… Oh.”

There was a flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes.

“Here,” he said, reaching to tuck the daisy he’d just conjured behind Arthur’s ear. “Now we can go.”

Then Arthur took him by the hand, dragging him down the corridor before he forgot about Gaius and sleeping and moved directly to kissing Merlin senseless.


End file.
